Hatred
by shedoc
Summary: Just what is it that has earned this persons hatred? [quickie while I proof the major fic, coming soon] one shot?


Disclaimer - Don't own nothing.

Warning - Draco's POV. He's been very insistent about getting this off his chest. Who am I to say nay?

Hatred

It's no secret that I hate him. Or them, if you want to be strictly accurate. My father and his master expect it of me, and my hatred is easily apparent for anyone who cares to look. Hating someone at the command of another person is not as tiresome as one might think. Neither my father or his master care to examine why I hate those three, they are satisfied with the fact of it, and with the fact that my obvious hatred serves as a cover for someone far more subtle who even now gathers information on their movements, hoping that someday they will place Potter in the hands of my father and his master.

Despite what it sounds like, I don't hate them because it is expected of me. I don't even hate them because of their opposition to the plans my father has gambled his life on. My hatred is based on a far more subtle and complex emotion, one that is insidious and dangerous. It started back on the train in our first year, though it took me a while to realise that my hatred did not arise from the expectations of others but from something else entirely.

I hate them because I envy them.

It's true.

I know what you're thinking. How can I possibly envy my inferiors?

Simple really, but obviously I'll have to spell it out for you.

Granger. A Mudblood with no social standing whatsoever. She'll never gain any either; she mixes with all the wrong people and cares about house elves for Merlin's sake! She's nearly top of the class in every subject she takes, and has the ear of the school's Golden Boy. Not that she has the intelligence to realise that. She could very easily manipulate Potter for her own benefit, especially if she were to use the few charms nature gave her.

Weasley. Poorer than dirt and not the brightest star in the firmament. A talent for chess, or so I'm told, but nothing else. He doesn't have siblings, he has a litter, and his father's political standing is absolutely ludicrous. The entire family live in a glorified pigsty. If his parents had any sense they'd be throwing the daughter at Potter in the hope that his fortune would one day become theirs, but they're too 'noble' for that.

And last of all, Potter. The orphan raised by Muggles with no understanding of who he is or how he could manipulate the world around him with his fame and fortune. He is neither brilliant nor a dullard, though he would do better to cultivate some subtlety. He seeks the approval of those around him and fails to see that they are doing the same of him.

Nothing to envy there, that is true, but what you must realise is that I have not completely listed their assets. Pathetic as they are they have something that I want, something that I will never have, no matter how long I seek it.

Take now for example. Potter is sitting in the courtyard. There is snow, it is cold and he is alone with a rather disreputable bag of books sitting at his feet. It is bitter out here, not that it penetrates the warmth of my cloak. Mother has an eye for fabrics that wear with style and suit the purpose for which they are designed. While others shiver in the mass produced school cloaks, my custom tailored one keeps me perfectly warm. Potter is shivering a little, and looking around, though he has yet to see me. His eyes light up in a smile and the second reason for my envy walks into the yard.

Granger has her nose in a book as always. She navigates the drifts with an absent air, and Potter takes her bag from her shoulder, dropping it to rest with his. She turns so she is pressed to one side of him and one of his hands join hers in supporting the book. She begins to speak without the proper formality of a greeting - yet another example of poor social training - and he looks over her shoulder.

Reason three walks into the yard moments later. His bag joins theirs and he hops up onto the window ledge behind Granger, one hand joining hers on the book as he presses in close to see what they are looking at. The three of them stand there, pressed together and talk quietly.

Nothing to be envious of you say? Look closely. See how their fingers overlap on the cover of the book? See how Granger is cradled between the two boys, who are simultaneously pressed against each other? See how they smile even as they bicker and argue over some trivial thing that is important only to them? And if you were to walk behind them, you would see that Potter and Weasley are holding hands behind Grangers back. Sometimes they even go so far as to put their arms around each other openly.

It only adds fuel to the fire of my hatred when I realise that even though they are not dating any member of the school - even Chang has given up on Potter, to the boys obvious relief - there is a hickey on Potters neck. Weasley is nuzzling Grangers ear as he leans in pretending to read what she is gesturing at, obviously he is the biter, and Granger herself is leaning more weight on Potter than any friend would.

Have you spotted the source of my envy yet? Do you understand what they have that I will never?

They have each other.

I have nothing.

I hate them.

End


End file.
